


Falling in Like

by afinecollector (orphan_account)



Series: In The Beginning [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dover, Fluff, Kent - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Second Date, Softly, White Cliffs of Dover, dinner date, mystrade, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/afinecollector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to take you somewhere," Greg said, his voice light. "If you're okay with maybe skipping dinner, that is?" </p><p>Mycroft frowned at him and glanced around them. "Take me where?" </p><p>"My favourite place," Greg said softly, smiling over his words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling in Like

**Author's Note:**

> I fiercely had Prentiss (Different for Girls) in my mind writing this (when he has a drink with Kim when they first rekindle their old school relationship at that restaurant).

Text Message:  
From - G. LESTRADE  
_I made a reservation at this place I know. It's called Arcadia. I'll pick you up. Is that OK? - G._

Text Message:  
From - HOLMES, Mycroft  
_I'm sure it will be perfectly acceptable. MH_

 

The Arcadia did not look much. It's awning, outdated to start with, was old and worn, and it's window held a sun-faded menu with a date in the corner for two years previously, giving the impression that the Mom-and-Pop joint didn't move with the times at all. But once inside the welcoming warmth of the building, it's charm and pull to the customers that filled almost every table was obvious. Soft lighting, a lit fire and gentle jazz music played at a level that was enjoyable but not overbearing. Mycroft could easily see why Greg had chosen it and wondered how he'd first come across it. It was not in central London, but nestled in a rural area of Kent in a place one would either have to know of its existence or really be looking for it to find it. They were seated in a cosy corner far from the door, away from the fire so as not to feel stifled but still able to feel its heat, and immediately offered a complimentary choice of a glass of the house red or white. They both chose the red. 

They sat down together, either side of the small, round table, and Greg couldn't keep his smile from growing on his lips. "I thought you might change your mind about the second date," he admitted his anxiety. "I started thinking maybe kissing you like that was too much." 

Mycroft inclined his chin. "I'm not so easily phased," He assured him. 

Greg's smile broadened. "I've been looking forward to tonight since you agreed," He said, clearly nervous. It endeared Mycroft to him all the more. "Like I said, I thought you might change your mind, but when you agreed I was kind of excited to show you this place." 

Mycroft picked up his glass of wine and took a sip, pleasantly surprised at the taste. "I was wondering where you discovered it. It's somewhat out of the way, not the sort of place one would stumble upon." 

Greg's cheeks pinked, "Google." 

Mycroft's brows quirked up his forehead and he smiled. "You researched a restaurant? To what end, to impress me with your fine dining knowledge, or because you actually considered it would be a place that you, too, would enjoy?" 

"I just wanted to go somewhere nice, and not in central London," Greg admitted. "You have to admit, though, I kind of hit the romantic jackpot." He praised himself. "It's pretty special in here." 

Mycroft nodded, glancing around him. "It is quaint." 

Greg reached for his wine and took a sip as conversation slipped for a moment. He couldn't shake the awkwardness; he felt more nervous now than he had two weeks ago on their first date. He didn't so much regret following up with seeing Mycroft personally again, but he wasn't sure that kissing him in the middle of a restaurant would be so romantic a second time around. He placed his glass down and folded his arms across one another on the table, leaning forward a little in his seat. "You're glad you agreed to come out?" 

Mycroft looked at him squarely. "Yes, of course." 

Greg smiled softly. "You're sure? Because if you're not we can just...you know, amicably call it a day and enjoy a dinner as friends and not promise anything if neither of us or one of us doesn't want it." 

"Is this your subtle way of telling me you don't think that you and I are going to go anywhere, Gregory?" Mycroft asked, half serious with his question but intrigued to see what response it would summon from the anxious DI, certain he'd be able to tell if Greg had rapidly changed his mind. 

"No," Greg said quickly. "No, I really - I'm -," he shrugged his shoulders. "I want this to go somewhere," He said quietly but with conviction. "All I've thought about since we kissed is how much I'd like this to continue. I just don't know how to be on dates; I'm out of practice and far from a hub for enthralling conversation. I suppose I'm worried that the longer this goes on, the more out of... _like_ we might fall." 

Mycroft placed down the glass he'd been cradling in his hands. How could he say, without being given over to a burst of sentimentality, that it was precisely the way Greg had just spoken that made him fall further _in like_ with him? How cold he say that he liked the way his teeth drew in his bottom lip when he couldn't find the right word or began to stammer a little over getting his words out fast enough was something he didn't want to miss? How could he say that the last two weeks had filled his mind with ideas and fantasies about what further dinners and drinks with this very man that made him feel like his heart might beat itself out of his chest? How did the man who spoke like he'd swallowed a dictionary and spoke with ultimate control and reasoning give himself over to the softness and sweetly-phrased expressions of love that were neither smartly clipped or ribbingly sharp?

"No," Mycroft said suddenly, slowly letting the word round off his lips. "At this exact moment, I don't believe there is anything that could make me want to walk away from all of this." Greg's eyes flicked side to side, unable to settle on a single spot on Mycroft's face until he locked his eyes to his right pupil. He smiled, the left side of his cheek quirking up and making both of his eyes crinkle at the outer corners. Mycroft returned the soft smile. "Are you very much _in like_?" he dared to ask. 

Greg nodded his head gently. "Yeah - yeah, very much." He took a measured breath. "Are you?" 

"I think I have been for some time," Mycroft revealed in a deliberate tone. 

Greg sat back and his expression changed, making Mycroft fear he might have spoken out of turn. "I want to take you somewhere," Greg said, his voice light. "If you're okay with maybe skipping dinner, that is?" 

Mycroft frowned at him and glanced around them. "Take me where?" 

"My favourite place," Greg said softly, smiling over his words. "If you'll let me, and if you'll trust me despite the fact it's going to be a little bit of a drive." Mycroft looked at his watch - eight thirty-five pm. He looked back up at Greg and nodded. "Okay," Greg smiled, getting to his feet. He jerked his head toward the door. "Let's go..." 

 

 

Mycroft was quiet as Greg drove, barely speaking as he focused on the road. The radio was off, but neither of them minded the solitude of the car being left silent. Mycroft listened to the sounds of Greg's deep breaths mixing with the monotonous purr of the engine and tried to work out from their location where it might be that inspired the DI with so much passion that he was happy to abandon dinner and take him there at this time in the evening. It took Mycroft mere moments, though, to realise where Greg had taken him as he pulled the car to a halt by a metal fence that was almost invisible in the darkening night once the car lights went out. 

"Dover Cliffs," Mycroft said as he climbed from the car, and looked over the bonnet at Greg. 

"Something about being here at night time makes it all the more amazing," Greg said, turning away from Greg and looking out at the view. The sun had long since vanished, and a velvety sky of navy blue was speckled with stars that illuminated the sea below it. The moon, reflected in the lightly crashing water, made the white cliffs look sparklingly clean. A cool wind blew and the smell of water and clean air enveloped both men. "Want to walk a bit?" He asked, looking back across the car at Mycroft. 

Pulling his coat around him, fastening the buttons at his waist, Mycroft nodded his head once. "Yes, of course." 

They walked side by side but not touching, their breath visible in the chilly air as they made their way down the pathway and onto the stony beach. The tide was out but not so far away that the lapping of the water against the rocks around them was missed. The sound was relaxing, the sky above them enchanting, and the peacefulness it provoked was immeasurable. 

"I can see why you like it," Mycroft remarked as they stopped walking, both standing with their hands in their pockets and staring out into the dark, glistening water. 

Greg looked at him sideways. "Even growing up in Weston, I've never felt so close to the water as I do when I come here." 

"You do that a lot?" Mycroft asked, "Come here for...peace?" 

Greg turned his body, facing Mycroft completely, "Only when I need to remember to take my time to enjoy what I have." 

Mycroft mirrored his stance. "And do you?" 

"Very much," Greg nodded his head. He stepped closer to Mycroft, drawing his hands out of his pockets. As he leant close, he let his left hand come up and cup behind Mycroft's head as he pressed his softly down on his. Mycroft stood rigid a moment but found it impossible not to fall pliable into the movements. Greg's right hand rested on Mycroft's hip. The light kiss lingered, until Mycroft drew down his head, licking his lips, and attempted to regain some composure over his fast-beating heart and woozy head. "Are you okay?" Greg asked him carefully, a little worried he may have been too full on. 

Mycroft nodded slowly and blinked his eyes up to Greg. "Yes, of course I'm okay."


End file.
